guardian angel
by Tibby Rose
Summary: "For a moment she swore she saw Brittany and heard the familiar voice. It was Brittany. Brittany with her comforting smile and beautiful eyes and flowing hair and shimmering wings-" Brittana, Pezberry. Discontinued.
1. Chapter 1

**a/n: originally meant to be a oneshot, but will be a short multichapter.**

Santana doesn't remember much of the night Brittany died. She remembers parts of it, of course-receiving the phone call from Brittany's mother, fighting with the hospital staff because they refused to let her see Brittany, the Glee Club holding her back when the doctor told them the news.

She doesn't remember much of what happened after it either. All she remembers if feeling numb, before she started to feel the pain. She doesn't remember the funeral, or how she acted, or anything else. She just remembers the pain that came after the numbness. It was almost as if her heart had been ripped out of her chest-it was possible, after all. Brittany was her everything, her other half, her best friend, her lover, her soulmate. Brittany was a part of her, a very important part at that. And Santana couldn't go on without her.

But she had to. She couldn't just disappear off the face of the earth, even if she wanted to. Because she did want to. She wanted to die if it meant being reunited with Brittany. She _needed_ Brittany. Brittany was her lifeline, and without her-

She paused, swallowing the metallic taste of blood. She had cut her lip, again. It had happened a lot lately-marks spread across her lips, as if they were a very poor substitute for Brittany. Then again, anything that almost became a part of her was a poor substitute for Brittany. Quinn, Puck-everyone.

She shifted in front of the mirror, almost feeling the presence beside her. For the past five years, Brittany would always prepare for school with her. Every day since seventh grade, Brittany had stood beside her, beaming at Santana in that way and adjusting her patterned tops, and later, her cheerleading uniform. Every day since seventh grade they had entered school, pinkies linked and glances reserved only for each other. It had always been Brittany and Santana, Santana and Brittany. And Santana had liked it that way.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Santana blinked back tears that weren't even there. They would be, but she had cried so much the past few weeks, Santana assumed she had run herself dry. She didn't want to go to school, didn't want to put up with everyone without Brittany beside her. But Santana knew Brittany would've made her go, and Santana wanted to keep her best friend happy, no matter what.

Almost as if Brittany was there beside her, talking about ducks and laughing, Santana felt the warmth that used to emit from the blonde. And then, almost as if Brittany was beside her, several words were spoken.

_Go on, Sanny. You can do it. I believe in you._

Santana snapped around, reading to kill the person who tricked her or, in the less believable situation, throw herself into Brittany's arms. But nobody was there. Santana blinked several times, before shaking her head. Losing Brittany had made her insane.

It wasn't like she needed another downside.

...

By lunchtime, Santana had already dished out three black eyes. The first one was needed-the guy, who Santana decided was a bigger asshole than Karofsky and Azimio combined-remarked that he regretted he didn't get to tap the 'hot dumb blonde chick' (his words, not Santana's) before she died. Santana saw it that if she didn't punch the guy, it would be an insult to Brittany's memory. Even if the blonde had disapproved of Santana being so violent.

The second one was a mistake. She had overhead a girl talking about how she and her friend were sure to get on the Cheerios now that Brittany was gone, as Santana certainly wouldn't rejoin without the other girl. She had meant to hit the girl that made the comment, but instead hit her friend-though the first girl hadn't gotten off so easily. It was clear she wasn't going to make it on the Cheerios, not because of her black eye, but because there was no way Coach Sylvester would allow a girl who cried due to a punch on her award winning squad. Her own fucking fault, really.

Twice the amount of people had tried to talk to her. Mr Schuester had tried first, reassuring her that she would be okay, and Brittany wouldn't want her to suffer. Santana wasn't sure if she was going to be allowed to keep going to Glee Club after she called him _'an annoying pervert who needs to invest in more fucking clothes'_, but if she was completely honest, Santana couldn't be forced to care.

Mrs Pillsbury was less successful. Or, the way Santana saw it, was less successful at dealing with insults. Although it was more like the truth. Santana didn't want her help, and so help her if she had lashed out. She was avoiding talking to everyone for a reason. Not so they could talk to her. She didn't want anyone's pity, didn't want their help. She wanted Brittany.

The only one who really got anywhere was Puck. Despite Quinn's warnings, he attempted to talk to her-tell her that Brittany wouldn't want her to be like this, that he was there for her, that it would get better. She had done everything she could to get rid of him, but it was pointless-Puck, despite everything, wouldn't take her shit, and instead give it to her straight. To Santana, it was a relief that someone remained the same, even if it was Puck.

Perhaps God was punishing her for everything she'd done. First taking away Brittany, and then Rachel Berry attempting to talk to her. For the first time in her life, Santana was beginning to regret being a sinner. It was her talk with Rachel, however, that she remembered more clearly than the others.

The other girl had seemed somewhat scared at first. Santana was used to people being afraid of her, but Rachel always stood her ground. This time though, she seemed terrified of the Latina.

Santana sighed, shutting her locker and leaning against her locker. She had been trying to get her code right for the past ten minutes, but she kept doing Brittany's-she had memorized the blonde's locker combination better than her own. Another thing to add to the list of Why Her Life Currently Sucked. Needless to say, she wasn't pleased to see Rachel Berry staring at her.

"Problem, Man Hands?" she demanded, ignoring the way her voice cracked. She narrowed her eyes, not only out of irritation, but in hopes it would somehow stop the tears falling.

"Despite the way you're glaring at me, I'm fine" Rachel replied, and Santana resited the urge to slap the girl. What she would give to have no problems like Rachel fucking Berry. The smaller girl paused for a moment before continuing "However, I am upset over the loss of Brittany. But it's quite obvious that you suffered the worst out everyone, because it's clear you saw Brittany as more than a friend. That, and Noah and Quinn informed me that you loved her." Seeing Santana open her mouth, Rachel quickly added "Only because they believe I can help you get over your loss."

Santana's eyes flashed, and she dug her nails in to her palms. She was going to kill Quinn and Puck for telling Rachel that she loved Brittany. She hated them for it. She hated everyone for everything because if they had been there like she couldn't be, Brittany would have survived. But they weren't there, and Santana hated them. But she hated herself more. Biting her tongue for a long hard moment, Santana flinched when she noticed Rachel take another step towards her.

"Why would Noah and Quinn know about how good you are at comforting people? You're not fucking Q, are you?" Shaking her head, Santana stepped away from Rachel "Whatever. I don't need your fucking help, Berry."

She spun around, and for a moment she swore she saw Brittany and heard the familiar voice tell her to _Stop being mean to Rachel, San_. Santana gripped the bag she ad been unable to dump in her locker tighter as she stared at the ghostly figure in front of her. It was Brittany. Brittany with her comforting smile and beautiful eyes and flowing hair and shimmering wings-

Santana blinked and the figure was gone, though Brittany's voice continued to ring in her eyes. _Rachel's really nice. _She swallowed, wiping at her eyes furiously. Maybe she did need Rachel's help. But she certainly didn't want it.


	2. Chapter 2

Leaning her head against the cold wall of one of the McKinley bathrooms, Santana sighed. She was skipping a class-_god_, she didn't even know which one anymore-but she didn't care. All of her after graduation plans revolved around Brittany. They were supposed to graduate, go to New York, go to college. They were supposed share a flat together, and have sex a lot and be together. Then they would graduate college and Brittany would become a professional dancer, and Santana hadn't figured out what the fuck she would become. Maybe a cop. Maybe a singer. Maybe a dancer with Brittany. All she wanted was to get out of the stupid town called Lima with her girl by her side. But now that Brittany was gone, all of that was shot to shit.

Shutting her eyes, she took a deep breath and tried to hold back the tears. But it was no use. Wiping at her eyes furiously, Santana swore loudly.

"I need you" she muttered, to no one in particular, because it wasn't as if Brittany could "I _need_ you. Why did you leave me?"

"But I'm right here" said a familiar, yet somewhat distant voice. A voice filled with sadness and regret, a tone Santana had only heard from the voice once or twice. And those two times had nearly killed her.

Jerking her head up, Santana frowned, ready to kill the asshole who was tormenting like this. She'd done some pretty horrible things in her life, and Santana knew that, but this was just cold. Even Santana thought it was sickening to torment someone with a recording of their dead soulmate.

"Who's that?" she spat, jumping to her feet and attempting to keep her voice from trembling "Who the fuck is doing that?"

"Don't swear" the voice said, and Santana instantly felt the room temperature drop. Shaking only slightly, she took a deep breath. It wasn't as if there were any dementors in the room, although if she was a wizard it would make sense (she had been friends with Quinn long enough to know some Harry Potter trivia) due to the temperature and her sadness. But they were completely unrelated, and Santana was ready to hit someone.

"I'm serious, you know" she called again, kicking open a cubicle door. No one. But they could be in another cubicle. Closing her eyes, Santana pushed open the next cubicle door. No one.

Placing a hand on the pillar between the doors, Santana took several deep breaths. Losing Brittany had made her insane. She couldn't think straight. That was it. Clutching the fabric of her skirt in her hands, Santana turned away and swore again.

"Stop it!" the voice said again, and Santana spun around. Whoever was doing this was really good at hiding, that much was clear. Maybe it was some midget Cheerio she was horrible to. She was horrible to all the Cheerios really, but this was low.

"No" she spat "You stop it. Stop tormenting me. I'm a bitch, but I wouldn't use the voice of someone you cared about against you. Just _stop_ it."

"I'm sorry, San. I didn't know I was upsetting you. But you can see me now, I think. I'm not quite sure how it works" Brittany's voice came from behind her, and Santana turned, ready to slap someone.

What she was not prepared for was a ghostly figure of Brittany in a white dress, wings sprouting from her back.

And then Santana did what anyone would do. She fainted.

...

"Is she okay?"

"She's waking up."

"What happened?"

"She's waking up."

"Brittany's death _has_ been hard on her."

"She's waking up."

"Poor girl."

"Excuse me, but if you would all kindly be quiet for a second, and I think you would notice Santana is waking up."

Blinking a few times, Santana moaned. Her head hurt like a bitch, and it didn't help that her sight was slightly blurry. Now did it help that she could hear Rachel Berry's annoying voice, along with the voices of several other Glee Club members.

"Go away" she muttered, closing her eyes again and attempting to block the voices out "All of you. Especially Man Hands."

"But Santana-"

"I believe it would be best if you all left" Rachel replied, and Santana felt a small wave of gratitude towards the girl "I'm sticking around because I was asked, but the rest of you should leave." And just like that, the wave of gratitude was gone.

Santana squeezed her eyes tighter as she heard the Glee Club leave with a few whispered conversations, footsteps and the ruffle of clothes. All except one, of course. The one Santana really didn't want to stay.

"Oh" Rachel's voice came down to her "As much as I want too considering you'll probably hit me, I have to stay and talk to you. Nurse's wishes."

"Well screw the nurse" Santana spat back "I don't want you here. I don't want anyone except-"

Just like that, it all came back. The scene in the bathroom. The voice. Brittany as a fucking angel. It came back too fast, and Santana clutched her sheets.

"I understand" Rachel replied, bringing Santana back to reality. She hadn't seen Brittany, she just thought she had. She passed out, so she dreamt that she saw Brittany. It was as simple as that. But Santana knew it wasn't true.

"But unfortunately" Rachel continued "I can't bring back the dead." Santana sniffed, and Rachel quickly apologized "I apologize, Santana. I didn't mean to upset you. People always say I'm tactless, and I suppose they're right."

"Well, they are" Santana replied bitterly "Now go away."

"I'm afraid I can't do that, San-"

"I don't care what the nurse wants. Nobody cares about what I want, because if they did, I would have Brittany. But nobody cares, so why should I care about what they want?"

"Santana-"

"Just shut up and leave me alone."

Rachel was quiet for a few moments, and despite the fact she hadn't heard the girl leave, Santana assumed she had left quietly. Breathing a sigh of relief, she tried to block out the pounding in her head.

"I care" whispered Rachel, and even though she wanted to hit Rachel-the girl was supposed to _have_ left, she couldn't bring herself to do it.

"Bullshit."

"I do care about you, Santana. I care about everyone in the Glee Club. I'll go get the Nurse" Rachel said quietly, standing up and walking to the door. She turned back, and Santana half expected her to say something, and Santana wanted to say something to the shorter girl herself, but she couldn't bring herself to do it.

It appeared Rachel decided against saying anything, because she turned and left the room. Santana suddenly felt alone, and prayed for Rachel to come back. Brittany would be better, of course, but Santana wasn't in the mood for any ghosts, even if it was Brittany's ghost.

"It wasn't a ghost" Santana told herself firmly "And it wasn't Brittany. Brittany's"

And for the third or so time that day, Santana found herself crying again.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: I'm not entirely sure about this chapter, but here you go. And don't worry, I promise that the Pezberry lovin' will come soon. UnBETAed (although I'm looking for one!) so all mistakes are mine.**

Santana squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself to go to sleep. It wouldn't work, of course. If it had, she'd be asleep and would've figured out a fan-fucking-tastic get rich quick scheme. But no, she was still wide awake, despite her burning desire to go to sleep and the terrible, energy draining day she had had. Apparently, she wasn't even allowed to try and get to sleep without images of Brittany slipping into her mind. And not just normal, happy Cheerio uniform wearing Brittany either. No, she saw images of Brittany as an angel. Losing her best friend and the girl she loved really had made her crazy.

"You know, San" Brittany's voice clouded her mind once again, and Santana burrowed her head further into the pillow. Brittany was gone, and she had to accept that. She had to accept it and stop pretending that the blonde was still around.

"You should look up" the voice continued, an eerie ring to it. It wasn't intentional, but Santana could hear it, as quiet as it was. It was one of the things Santana was good at-picking up the underlying tones in voices, a way to figure out if somebody was being sincere or not. And when you're a bitch like Santana Lopez, lots of people try to mess with you. If you can pick it up from the start, you save yourself the trouble and the humiliation later. And this voice definitely had a ghostly twinge to it.

"Go away" Santana muttered, refusing to lift her head and instead focusing on getting to sleep and keeping her eyes closed. She didn't know if that would make the voice that had been bothering her since earlier on that day would go away. She felt guilty about it, urging Brittany's voice to go, but it was scaring the crap out of her, and honestly, all thoughts of Brittany lead to her death now. And that night was not something Santana wanted to focus on. Not now, not ever.

"Santana!" The loud, sound in her ear made Santana shoot up in bed, clutching the blankets lying beside her. Her heart was beating fast, and it was dark enough that Santana could barely see her own hand in front of her, but sitting on her bed was unmistakably Brittany. Brittany who despite the large white wings poking out of her back, looked relatively the same. Kind eyes, bright smile, blonde hair covering her shoulders. Except she looked paler, almost transparent, and if it wasn't for the reassuring hand on her leg, Santana would've sworn she'd been dreaming. In fact, she was still pretty sure she was.

"What the f-" Santana began, her unblinking eyes not moving from Brittany's-was it even Brittany? Or was it somebody messing with her just for the fun of it-gaze. The blonde squinted a little, before opening her mouth again.

"Did I scare you? This whole guardian thing is really complicated" Brittany explained, her lips curving up into a little smile. She was so real, so beautiful that Santana almost reached out and hugged her.

But she didn't, because she couldn't. Brittany was gone, and this was-Santana pulled her legs back and away from the ghostly hand, her entire body shaking. This was not happening.

"Who are you?" she snarled, trying to keep her voice from breaking or tears coming out of her eyes. "You can't be Brittany, because Brittany's gone. So whoever you are, leave me alone."

"But" the blonde paused, biting her lip "I am Brittany. I'm just like an angel. See?" She pointed to the large, feathery wings behind her back and nodded. "Weird, right?"

"Angel's aren't real" Santana persisted, shaking her head in disbelief. The thing, whatever it was, was practically lighting up her whole room, and Santana prayed that her parents wouldn't notice.

"San" the Brittany look-a-like took a deep breath, crawling slightly closer, only to have Santana pull back. "They told me that you wouldn't believe me, and I think that makes sense, because you're awesome and you don't let anyone tell you what to do. But I got sent here to keep an eye on you, because they were like 'She needs you.' I don't know why, but you do. Why do you need me, Sanny?"

Under normal circumstances, Santana wouldn't have believed this for a second. She would've laughed and given the person a biting remark before telling them to leave. But there was something about this, something about it that made Santana realize that whatever was happening was real.

Gulping, Santana blinked away tears "You left. That's why I need you. Because you left me all alone in this god forsaken town and it sucks. It sucks and I hate it. You made Lima worthwhile, Brittany. You made everything worthwhile. And now you're gone, and you've left me with a bunch of idiots for no apparent reason."

Brittany was quiet for a moment, staring down at her hands. A pang of guilt shot through Santana, and she almost threw up. She hated seeing Brittany go quiet like this, especially considering she was the one who had caused it. Grasping at straws, Santana opened her mouth again in an attempt to bring the slightly distant, yet still bright smile back to Brittany's face. "Shit. Britts, I didn't mean it like that-"

"No, it's okay" Brittany smiled, raising her head "I know you didn't mean anything, Sanny. You're upset. It's okay to be sad every once in a while. I was sad when I had to leave you and my family and Charity and Lord Tubbington. But the reason I'm here is to make you happy."

Santana almost laughed at that but stopped herself from doing so just in time. Instead, she raised an eyebrow, wondering if her day could get any weirder, or, for that matter, any worse. "Make me happy?" Santana shook her head "No, Britts. I'm guessing they don't allow you to come back to life. Whoever they are anyway. All I know is that they suck."

Brittany bit her lip. "But it's what I have to do San! They said I was your" Brittany paused and titled her head up, as if in thought. Or, Santana thought drily, she was communicating with whoever sent Brittany here. "Guardian Angel!" Brittany announced with a grin.

"Guarding Angel? B, there's no such thing."

"But there is" Brittany persisted, frowning. "They are real because I am your Guardian Angel. I don't think they'd make that up. If they did, that would be really mean."

Santana shook her head, squeezing her eyes tight. "No. They're not. This is just some bullshit dream. I'm going to wake up tomorrow, and I'm going to go to school and cry my eyes out. You know why? Because Brittany, is gone. She's gone, and she's not coming back. We'd all like to convince ourselves that's not the truth, but-" Santana broke off and wiped at her eyes, before burrowing her head in the pillow. She didn't want to deal with this anymore. Or ever again.

"Santana" Brittany begged, but the Latina didn't raise her head. No matter what happened, she was determined to forget about this. It hurt, but it was true. Brittany was gone. And this weird dream of Guardian Angels and crap wasn't going to change that.

"I won't give up on you."


End file.
